Breaking Down Illusions
by dumplingpriestess
Summary: Draco's 6th year. Please R/R! ~*ON HOLD until I figure out what the storyline will be*~ ^_^;
1. From Behind Drawn Shades

The shining red engine of the Hogwarts Express sat at Platform 9 3/4 as its passengers scrambled to make sure their belongings were safely stored, and ran through the train finding seats. Nervous first years fidgeted, listening to parents' last minute "be good"s and "send me an owl when you get there"s, while older students talked animatedly with each other, telling of summer holiday adventures. Another school year at Hogwarts was beginning.

Separated from the positive energy that suffused through the Platform, Draco Malfoy sat in an otherwise empty car. His car. Careful not to be seen, he watched the crowds on the Platform, his eyes peeking around the drawn window shade. Looking, but not really seeing, his icy blue eyes lost deep in thought.

Another year at Hogwarts. Another year of misery. For as long as Draco could remember, he had hated Hogwarts. Ever since he was little, he had heard his father talk of Hogwarts, not fondly, but how it had helped mould him into a respectable wizard, and how he expected Draco to live up to the Malfoy name and be the best wizard Hogwarts had produced. And now that he was part of the school, Draco saw problems with Hogwarts that no one else seemed to notice. The headmaster was a bumbling fool and that the teachers were partial to certain students. Some of the classes offered were a total waste of time. An In Depth Look at Muggle History? Draco stared blankly out the window. Granted, there had been a time when he had been excited about the school and all it had to offer. A chance of making his father proud, living up to the expectations, being the best. But then there was that do-gooder Potter and his followers...they had swooped in and taken away his chance at-- Draco paused. At what? Happiness? Achievement. He, who was going to be the star of Quidditch - snatched away by Potter, who had never been on a broom before Hogwarts and who had claimed a spot in the school's history by becoming the youngest and by far the best seeker the school had seen in ages. He was going to set the standards of academic excellence, but instead, Granger had climbed her way to the top of the class. The Weasley's were well known and well liked, and he, a Malfoy, was well known and well feared. His father was a death eater, and he was expected to be one as well.

Who was this person that was supposed to be Draco Malfoy? The Draco Malfoy everyone knew, the proud and nasty pureblood, was that really him? Draco sighed. No. It was a facade, an illusion, built by his own ambitions and fears, strengthened by his father's constant reminders of "maintaining family tradition". Draco stared out the window, his eyes falling on a familiar figure.

________________________________________________________________________

From the Platform, Hermione stood talking to Ginny.

"I can't wait to go back," Ginny said excitedly. "I mean, I know you have O.W.L.S. this year and all, but I love that castle and it's always fun seeing everyone again after the holidays are over..."

Hermione laughed. "Don't worry, Ginny. In a few hours we'll be feasting in the Great Hall. But I know what you mean. I'm excited also."

Suddenly there was a loud commotion from the other end of the Platform. A third year's cat had gotten loose and lay crouched in the shadows, behind some boxes, hissing and spitting as Harry and Ron, trying to be helpful, attempted to catch it.

"Now what has my brother gotten into?" Ginny sighed. "I guess we'll have to help them. Boys. You can't ever leave them alone with anything..." She turned and walked over to where Ron was shouting at Harry to "do something."

As Hermione turned to follow, something caught her eye. "Malfoy?" she thought, frowning. He stared out of the train window, almost hidden from behind the shade. His eyes bored right through her, as if she wasn't there. Still...

"He looks, almost....unhappy?" Hermione wondered. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ginny, who had stopped when her friend had not followed. Seeing the thoughtful look on her face, she asked, "Hermione, are you ok?"

Startled, Hermione tore her gaze away from Malfoy. "Yeah, I'm coming," she said, running to catch up to her. Glancing back, she saw that Malfoy had disappeared. 

Malfoy curious behavior was quickly dispelled from her mind as found herself focusing her energies on freeing Ron and Harry from the scared cat's sharp claws.

________________________________________________________________________

The door to his compartment opened. Draco moved away from the window and found himself staring at a timid looking first year. The first year scanned the empty car, then looked back at Draco, wide eyes asking the question he was too afraid to ask. Draco opened his mouth to say something, when a shrill voice cut through the silence.

"What do you think you're doing? This has been Draco Malfoy's compartment since the beginning, and he does not want the company of a first year."

Pansy. Draco groaned inwardly, wishing he could use the silencing spell to end her annoying prattle. Instead, he gave the wide-eyed first year a stony glare, which sent him scurrying away.

"Draco," Pansy said, her voice sickeningly sweet as she sat down next to him. "How come you didn't answer any of the owls I sent you?"

I've been busy, Pansy," he replied, irritation settling in his voice.

Several seconds of awkward silence filled the air. Pansy stood suddenly. 

"Well," she said. Draco could see she was searching for words. "I'm going to find some of the others."

Draco watched as she shut the door a little harder than was necessary, leaving him to himself. Well, he had his compartment on the Hogwarts Express. That was something, wasn't it?

Well, how do you like it? I realize there are some problems with it. I don't know when Hogwarts students take their O.W.L.S. and other exams. Can someone email me with that information? I'll then change this chapter to reflect true information. By the way, the Gryffindor trio is in their 6th year, but that'll be mentioned later on. What do you think about the story so far? Should I continue? I have an idea on where I'm going with this, but I'd like some feedback. Thanks!


	2. Sorting Thoughts

The returning students sat at the tables of their respective house, waiting on the appearance of Professor McGonagall and the first years. The other teachers and Dumbledore sat at the long table at the top of the hall. Draco spotted Snape in the line-up, appearing particularly uncomfortable. It seemed that Snape had lost out on the DaDA job yet again, for next to him sat an old wrinkled man with dark eyes and lips pursed so tightly it would seem as if he had bitten into a lemon.

Shifting his gaze from the teachers to the students, Draco swept a semi-concerned eye over them. No one had really changed much over the summer. Then again, it was not like he really cared. Finding nothing interesting to gawk at, he focused on his surroundings, glancing upward. The ceiling twinkled back at him. Draco remembered someone mentioning back before _their _sorting that the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky. Funny how he had never really looked at the Great Hall very closely until now.

Professor McGonagall came into the Hall, followed by a line of flighty-looking first years. What did Peeves call them? Ickle Firsties. That was exactly what they were. Every student admitted to Hogwarts was a threat to him. Each one had the potential to be better than him, something he hated to think about. He spotted the first year that had attempted to claim a seat by him. The sandy blond-haired boy fidgeted, his eyes wide with fear. Draco almost felt bad for him, but the feeling soon passed.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat in front of the first years. Draco had always wondered about that dirty and tired old rag. One had to be suspicious of a hat that claimed to know all your thoughts. The hat's song was also questionable. Draco didn't really appreciate how the hat seemed to place Gryffindors on a pedestal, sighting them as "brave at heart." He didn't like how each house had some great distinguishing characteristic, while Slytherins were left with "using any means to achieve their ends." He wouldn't do that...would he? Well, his father had...

Draco stifled a bored yawn. How he wanted to leave and go to his dorm, to fall face first into his bed and sleep. Really, he just wanted to get out of the Great Hall. Anything to get away from this infernal clapping and cheering! He scowled. Was it really necessary to clap and make noise for every single student sorted? How about a nice round of applause at the end? He stared in disgust as the Gryffindors applauded a one Harington, Melissa, for being sorted into their house.

His icy glare traveled from the new girl down the length of the table, resting on Granger and her red-headed weasel friend. He scrutinized her; something was different. Ah, the mudblood had finally figured out how to control her hair. It was no longer frizzy and now looked about as soft as a cotton sheet, which in his opinion, was a great improvement. She almost looked pretty. Almost. Draco snorted at this thought. He saw her glance his way, blinking in surprise when she found him staring at her. Then she deliberately turned her nose up at him, intently watching where the hat would place Klinger, Robert. Ravenclaw. Who did Granger think she was? Draco's scowl deepened, and he looked away.

***

The cold, unforgiving stone walls and floors of the dungeons echoed Draco's feelings of emptiness. The Slytherin common room, sparsely draped in the house colors, provided little warmth or sense of belonging in Draco's heart. He slowly opened the door to the dorms, now labeled "6th Years".

Furnishings made of a wood so dark it was almost black filled the room, while rich green and silver silks hung tastefully from the walls. On two of the four beds lay two prone forms. Draco immediately recognized them as Crabbe and Goyle. They lay snoring loudly, mouths wide open. Those dimwits must have missed the train. They had done the same thing last year. Shaking his head, he turned to his part of the room. The large bed was covered with black and green. Sitting down on the unwrinkled sheets, he turned to look at the trunk which held his personal items.

Just then, Blaise Zabini entered. He moved soundlessly across the room to his side, acknowledging Draco's presence with a slight nod. Draco did the same. Neither one said a word. Draco watched as Blaise prepared for bed. His movements were so routine and measured that Draco could anticipate them. Walk to the bathroom. Five minutes in, then out. Pajamas and robe on, walk to the dresser. Fold clothes. Draco remembered Blaise was a neat freak. Folding complete, walk over to bed, place wand under pillow, get into bed. Draco was amazed that Blaise had managed to fall into this rut; he had not strayed away from his nighttime routine in the six years Draco had known him.

Blaise cleared his throat. "I'm going to put the lights out."

"Whatever."

"Derkos." 

Darkness surrounded Draco, but he made no effort to move. After several minutes, Draco heard the light wheezing Blaise always made when he was asleep. Cursed with the three noisiest sleepers, Draco shook his head in resignation and quietly made himself comfortable on the bed, closing his eyes.

This chapter's kind of short and I have mixed feelings about it. I really like individual parts of it, but as a whole I'm not satisfied. Does it seem a little forced? I'd really like feedback on this chapter, and while you can flame me if you feel the *absolute* need to, constructive criticism is preferred. Maybe I'll just delete the chapter and move on.

Indiana jones-- No, I'm not going to have Hermione and Draco get together very quickly. I agree, it is corny. Someone like Draco doesn't just suddenly fall in love. It takes time.

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed.


	3. Wishful Thinking

So the first week back wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It was much worse. First, schedules having been passed out at breakfast, Draco found that he had gotten stuck with Divination, a class he clearly remembered _not _marking down in his classes for the next year. That crazy old bat Trelawney had sighed every time she looked at him, and had lamented endlessly in front of the whole class how he, Draco Malfoy, was destined to lead a trying path before he left Hogwarts. Well, of course he was, especially since he had to waste his time with this joke of a class.

Next, Quidditch practices had begun again. Draco had been particularly excited about this. It was the one good thing about Hogwarts. He knew that he wasn't that great a player to begin with, and so what if his father had bought his way onto the team; that was four years ago, and in the past. But now, now he was good, now he deserved to be on the team. He had worked particularly hard 5th year and had continued practicing during the summer holidays. He was confident Madame Hooch was going to name him as Slytherin captain. But no, he was fated to be slighted yet again, as Madame Hooch had given the prized spot to Emerald Sharp, a fourth year. Draco had fought to control his rage. Logically he should have been the choice, considering seniority and experience. It was only her second year on the team. Draco had done a good job of keeping his emotions hidden; the only tell-tale sign of his real feelings being his stormy eyes, and the slight twitch in his lip when he first heard the news. But those were only little signs, and no one had seen them. Emerald Sharp, Slytherin Quidditch team captain. Congratulations. 

Professor McGonagall had assigned a three foot long essay on the Effects of Improper Animagus Transformation, examples cited, due Monday, no exceptions.

And to top it off, he'd been having trouble sleeping. His reluctance to go to Madame Pomfrey for something to help him sleep stemmed from his pride and his stubbornness. Every night, beginning a couple weeks before school had started again, he had slept fitfully, sometimes lying awake all night. His insomnia was beginning to leave its mark on him. Dark shadows appeared under his eyes, making his ivory skin even paler. He was either unusually nasty towards everyone or no one. He had fallen back in Potions, the one class where it should have been impossible to do so, and had managed to get on Snape's bad side when he snapped at him. Snape, in return, had slapped him with a detention, and 20 points from Slytherin. The Gryffindors had snickered loudly, until Snape took five points off for each one who continued to "disturb the classroom." He didn't even know why he was sleeping horribly. Finally, putting aside his pride, Draco made his way to the hospital wing.

In doing so, he ran into Granger, Weasley and Potter, who were headed back to the Gryffindor house after their last class. Ron, seeing Malfoy alone, took the opportunity to poke a little fun.

"What's wrong Malfoy?" Ron teased, seeing the tired look on Malfoy's features. "Lost sleep over how you weren't able to buy your spot as team captain?"

"Back off, Weasley," Draco warned, "I'm in no mood to deal with your sad attempts at insults." He walked on, ignoring the confused looks on the three faces.

"Did he just..." Ron began.

"Talk to us with out insulting us? Yes." Harry's face looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps you were a little harsh, Ron," Hermione said.

"Come on, Hermione, look at how many times he's thrown insults at us. How many times has he called you a mudblood? Attacked Harry's parents? Or what about all the times he found humor in my family?" Ron's face flushed in anger.

"Well? Aren't you going to back me?" Hermione looked expectantly at Harry.

"To tell you the truth, Ron's right. Malfoy deserves what he gets."

Hermione thought a minute. "I suppose you're right."

"I'll bet the git's scared out of his pants without his bodyguards, especially of me, the great Ron Weasley!" Ron puffed out his chest and flexed his muscles.

"Right..." Harry grinned, while Hermione shook her head in amusement. The three continued their trek to the Gryffindor house entrance, laughing.

***

Draco stood at the door to the hospital wing, dreading going inside. Hospitals made him queasy. The quicker in, the quicker out. He opened the door and strode in, daring his feet to hesitate.

Madame Pomfrey was attending to a rather shaken looking second year who had had a spell backfire on him in Charms class. "I want you to lie right here and don't move until I say so." She drew a curtain around the bed the boy was lying on. Then she turned to Draco.

"Yes? What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if...can I..." Draco frowned at his inability to form simple sentences.

Madame Pomfrey looked slightly annoyed. "Yes, go on."

"Do you have anything that can help me sleep?" Draco blurted out before his mouth decided to die on him again. "I've been having problems sleeping for the past three weeks."

Madame Pomfrey looked skeptical. "Did you check your room for boogie men? They like to disturb sleep, and usually hide under the bed itself."

Draco frowned at Madame Pomfrey's assumption that he had not tried to fix this problem. It wasn't like he was stupid or anything, he just couldn't sleep. "There's no boogie men. And it's not from anyone giving me Insomniac's Brew or hexing me. I just can't sleep."

Madame Pomfrey peered closely into Draco's eyes. Several minutes passed and she still stood there, her eyes staring straight into him. Draco slowly backed up. This was too uncomfortable.

"Look, can we speed this up?" he said in his usual drawl. "I'm just asking for a potion or something."

Pulling out a packet of something from one of her cabinets, she handed it to Draco.

"Take these," she said. "They're Snoozing Suzie's Sleep Aids. One pill a day, and you'll be out like a light." Draco reached for the packet, but she pulled it away from him. "But really, nothing can take the place of real sleep. You should find out what's so important in your mind that it won't let you sleep." Draco snatched the pills from her hand, then was pushed out the hospital door.

Woo, chapter 3 finished, and the plot thickens! Or, for those of you who may not find the plot too readily, the plot begins! I have to give it to J.K. Rowling, it's so hard to come up with original interesting names of things. 

I don't know how often I'll be updating this; I'm trying to get the ideas out as quickly as possible, but it's hard with schoolwork and now I'm going to crew practice and _then_ going to the gym for some extra training. So right now I should be doing math or an English essay or something, but instead I'm writing Harry Potter. ^_^ I'll try to get another chapter out every few days, but no promises! 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love reviews, good, bad, other...


	4. Minor Irritations

Hiya! Finally, the story continues! Sorry for the extreme delay; the storyline keeps changing whenever I begin to write, so it's taken awhile to get things in order. This is the official fourth chapter; if you didn't notice, earlier I had a "filler" fourth chapter that was really one long author's note, plus a poem I found in my English book that I liked. Don't worry if you missed it, because there wasn't that much to miss. ^_^ I'm trying to move out of the weird tenses (he _had_ seen, after there _had_ been) because it's hard to keep the tenses consistent that way , so the overall tone might change from the last chapter to this one. Yeah, I've definitely been in school too long when I worry about verb tenses. Hmm...Oh, and while I have your attention ***I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING HARRY POTTER, except this story idea*** That's the only time I'm saying it, too. Now, on with the story...

It was a great day, and nothing could spoil it. The sleeping aids from Madame Pomfrey had helped greatly. So much, that Draco wondered why he hadn't gone to the hospital wing earlier. Draco's focus restored, he had located and caught the snitch in record time at Quidditch practice. In Potions, he earned fifteen points for Slytherin for successfully creating a tonic for Munkrad's Disease, a dreadfully irritating sickness that inflamed the skin of the wand hand to the point of immobility. Afterwards, he successfully insulted both Potter and Weasley at the same time; the two dunderheads had just stood there speechless. Not that that was a bad thing, of course...

Not even Trelawney and her outrageous predictions could ruin the day. The old bag had predicted that something life changing was going to happen to Draco. He laughed it off, because everyone knew that the Divination teacher's predictions were bogus. During dinner, he joked to Crabbe and Goyle how winning the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw would be life altering, or maybe perhaps getting a higher grade than Granger on that transfigurations essay. The nosy Gryffindor Parvati had been walking past just then, and overhearing Draco's jest, warned him to not take such predictions lightly.

"Pansy, tell him that he needs to take any prediction seriously. Besides, Professor Trelawney saw it in the stars, and that's the most reliable method of prediction," Parvati insisted, appealing to who she hoped was the most reasonable of the group. She was wrong.

"Really, Parvati," Pansy scoffed, "I would have thought that you would have more sense than to follow something as questionable as divination. It's not even real magic -- any muggle can divine." Pansy paused. "Then again, you Gryffindors are a gullible lot."

Parvati looked stricken. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She lingered for a moment, and when Draco and the others silently stared her down, she quickly returned to the Gryffindor table, where she whispered in a huddled group to her friends.

"Irritating bunch of do-gooders," Pansy sneered. Crabbe and Goyle grunted in agreement. 

Draco stood. "If you'll excuse me," he said curtly, and left.

Pansy watched Draco as he walked out of the Hall. "Is he acting strange to you?" she asked the two clods in front of her. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged.

"Not that we're aware of," Goyle answered.

Draco returned to his room, gathering his books. He then headed down to the library to do some studying. He stopped, hesitating. Did he really want to be found in the library? Changing direction, he made his way out to the Quidditch field. The pitch would be empty, leaving him undisturbed. He climbed up to the spectator's stands, then settled himself in a seat and tackled his arithmancy work.

***

Draco awoke to the find himself still outside. The air had turned cold, and Draco wrapped his cloak tighter around him, futilely trying to keep the chill wind from him. Gathering his books and parchment, he rushed back to the school. Funny, how even though he had fallen asleep without any sleep aids, he felt more exhausted after waking than before he had dozed off. Draco rubbed his eyes, forcing them to focus in the darkness, as any light would have aroused suspicion. According to the large clock that stood in front of the Great Hall's doors, it was only midnight, which wasn't too terribly late. Still, if Filch caught him...

Draco crept back into his room, breathing a sigh of relief at his good fortune. No one had noticed his absence. His eyes then narrowed at the idea. So much for concerned friends. Oh well. He dismissed the thought immediately, and reached for his sleeping aids, carefully hidden in a secret compartment in his trunk. Not that it was wrong that he was taking these sleeping pills; it was just his pride that again got in the way. He must maintain his image and all. He quickly swallowed two pills, grimacing at the bitter taste they left in his mouth.

Within five minutes of slipping into his bed, Draco had fallen into a deep slumber.

Yeah, I know it's short, sorry. More's coming, and soon, I promise! *rushes off to complete the next chapter*


	5. ...

:Þ

See my bio


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